Bina
by Lavinia Lavender
Summary: This was cleverly disguised as a Religion project for school. A short story of the story of the resurrection of Jairus's daughter. Don't worry, the story itself won't have so many of's.


**Author notes: **This was written for a major Religion project, so it had to be all positive and things. The last half of it was written at late, late night. I thought about rewriting part of it, then decided not. So like it or don't.

Also, this was partly inspired by _The Red Tent_ - an awesome, awesome novel I highly recommend. All of the names besides Jesus and Jairus come from very, very minor characters in it.

Do review, especially if you see typos.

**_Bina_**

Capernaum was at its most beautiful at dusk, when the sun tinted the brown houses dusty red. Everything glowed red, even skin. Bina contemplated this as she walked back from the well, holding the pitcher with one hand so she could hold her other arm out, observing the red gleam.

"Watch where you step!"

Bina smiled as she looked up to where the voice called. It came from Noadya, servant to the house of Zerach, and friend of Bina. Noadya was leaning out of the window, paused in the act of beating out a rug. But Bina could not stop to talk then; Peretz, the cook, would be grumpy enough if he did not have the water ready when he began dinner. So she only returned Noadya's wave and continued down the streets of Capernaum, which were much emptier than usual as the people were home for the evening.

Bina was proud of the house where she served; it was one of the largest in Capernaum. Jairus was a wealthy and highly respected ruler, and Bina felt it was deserved. It was four years ago that her previous master had decided to move with his family to Rome, and that he had no more need of her. Bina's only family lived in Jerusalem – how could she travel there? It was then that Jairus, with whom she had barely come in contact at that point through a few meetings between him and her previous master, offered to take her in. Naturally, Bina was grateful and worked willingly to repay him.

Going through the servants' entrance, she delivered Peretz his water, and as soon as she stepped out of the kitchen a girl ran up to her, seizing her hand.

"Bina!"

"Slow down, Mistress Sheva." Elisheva was still a child; the real mistress was her mother, the shrewd, clever Hesia. Bina used the title in a mixture of affection and teasing, and naturally never around her parents.

Elisheva paid no attention. "Bina, Jesus has come back! Did you see him?"

Startled, Bina pulled back slightly to better see her face. "Jesus – where did you hear that?"

"Eliphaz told me. They were all talking about it in the temple." Eliphaz, unlike most older brothers, was not given to teasing his sister – her long history of illness made everyone gentle with her. But Bina pushed aside the news to investigate later.

"Is your father home yet?"

"No –"Her answer was shortened by a fit of coughing; concerned, Bina bent down to her level.

"Elisheva, has your cough returned?"

She couldn't answer, coughing harshly into her robe. Bina rose to get water from the kitchen, but met Peretz at the door, who was holding out a cup silently. Taking it, she held it to Elisheva's lips, who finally managed to take a few sips. Bina examined her face; she was pale, eyes bright from coughing. Touching her head, Bina found it damp.

"Elisheva, you didn't go down to the sea today?"

Elisheva looked guilty. "Tirza and Yedida took me, and we didn't stay long –"

Bina sighed, frustrated. "Your mother told you not to go to the sea! How would you disobey her?"

"She said I could go once I was well again, and I was!"

There were sounds of men's voices coming from the front of the house; remembering her duties, Bina got to her feet once more. "You must tell your mother that you went, Elisheva." Elisheva pouted, but she knew that if she didn't, Bina would.

The rumor of Jesus' return was confirmed quickly as Bina went about her duties welcoming Jairus home. It was all Jairus could talk about, and Hesia listened attentively while Bina washed his hands and feet.

"You remember, my love, how I came home after hearing him teach for the first time. Ah! I have never heard a man read the scripture as he did. And the power of God is with him! I myself saw him command the evil spirit out of the man who had been plaguing our synagogue for years. Even today he devoutly attends, with never the slightest disruption. Eliphaz has had the honor of witnessing Jesus heal Gera of his lame leg." Jairus smiled widely at his son, as though proud of his very ability to watch. "And now Jesus has returned! Ah!" He shook his head, seeming dazzled by the very honor of walking in the same city that Jesus walked.

Hesia took advantage of the pause. "My husband, Peretz has given me a signal that dinner is ready. Would it please you to bring it out now?"

Jairus clapped his hands. "Yes, indeed! Where are my children?"

It was a call only directed to one, for Eliphaz was already in the room. Elisheva appeared in the doorway, and Jairus motioned her to his side.

"My beautiful little Sheva. How are you feeling today?"

Bina paused for an extra moment as she laid down the platter of fish.

"Not badly, Daddy."

At once the other three members of the family turned their full attention to the pale girl.

Hesia's eyes were as observant as ever. "My daughter, is your hair wet?"

Elisheva, her conversation with Bina clear in her mind, was swift to answer. "Yes, Mother. Tirza and Yedida took me down to the sea for a little while."

"Elisheva!" Jairus' tone was not angry, only reproachful and disappointed, which, as their children knew well, was only worse. Elisheva writhed.

Bina returned to the kitchen for the next dish, frowning slightly.

Bina arose the next morning at dawn, as usual. She swept the porch clean, and as she replaced the broom, heard the sound of coughing from upstairs. She hesitated, debating whether to go up to the roof, and then heard the sound of quiet, quick footsteps. Hesia's. Elisheva would be taken care of; Bina had chores to attend to.

Hesia appeared briefly for breakfast, her face drawn. She said a few quiet words to Jairus, who knit his brow. But there was no special call for Bina, so she had no choice but to continue the everyday tasks.

Jairus and Eliphaz soon left for the temple. Peretz, who still hardly trusted her to go to the marketplace for fruit, left to buy the week's spices. Bina was kneading dough alone when a call came from the outside. She paused only long enough to make certain that Hesia was not coming down, then hurried to the door.

It was Jalam – the potter's apprentice. Bina noticed him often in the market, like any other young woman did. Jalam was handsome, his skin only slightly lighter than the clay he worked – and young, only having passed nineteen years. But unlike the other girls, Bina never allowed herself a serious daydream for the same reason that she had no higher ambitions that to serve in the house of Jairus. Though she was eighteen years old, had quick, clever hands, and the full figure of a woman, her face – particularly her cheeks – were spotted.

Jalam inclined his head to her, and she bowed her own in return.

"I have a delivery for your master Jairus."

"He is at the temple. I will see what my mistress would have me do." She stepped aside to allow Jalam inside, then went out to hurry up the stairs to the upper room where Elisheva had been taken.

The coughing had ceased about an hour ago; Bina had hoped she was sleeping, and so knocked very gently on the door. "Mistress?"

There was a moment before a pale Hesia appeared. "What do you need, Bina."

"Jalam the potter's apprentice has a delivery."

Looking distracted, Hesia disappeared momentarily, then returned with a small bag of money. "Pay him and set the pottery in the kitchen."

But Bina did not leave immediately. "Is – is Elisheva any better, mistress? Is there anything I should fetch for her?"

Hesia's eyes focused on something past her. "She seems to be sleeping. But you may go fetch more water after you pay the potter's apprentice."

"Yes, mistress."

Jalam was waiting patiently, still holding the large basket. He counted out the coins she gave him, they thanked each other, and he took his leave. Bina stood still for a moment after his footsteps died away, smothering the disappointment in her chest.

At the well, there was quite a gathering of women talking about the return of Jesus. The focus of attention was an old midwife who was there when Jesus healed his friend Simon's mother. Bina listened silently, a small question growing in her head – if Jesus could cure that woman's fever in an instant, could he not also cure Elisheva of her cough? Perhaps she could ask Jairus if it was possible that Jesus could visit her....

She did stop to talk with Noadya when she returned.

"My master doubts him," Noadya said, shaking her head. "He asks, who has the power to cast out devils, but the greatest devil of them all?"

Bina frowned. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the devil king want to cast out his subjects?"

Noadya shrugged. "Oh, that's only what Zerach says. I hardly care. Why should I have an interest in that Nazarene? He's a carpenter's son. You would think that Eliphaz would know more of the scriptures than him."

"I heard a rumor he was astounding the rabbis in the temple when he was twelve."

Noadya laughed. "Now that _is_ a rumor."

Bina shrugged and changed subjects. "I saw Jalam this morning."

Her attention was caught. "Did you? Why did he come to see you?"

Bina smiled at Noadya, acknowledging the ridiculous idea. "He was only delivering pots and things for Jairus."

"Well." Noadya leaned out the window. "Elisheva is sick again?" With a sigh, Bina confirmed it. Noadya was silent, her head tilted and brow furrowed. "Poor child. I don't see a long life for her."

Bina looked sharply at her. "You mustn't talk like that, Noadya."

She cocked her head. "Not even with you? I thought we were friends."

"Well – there is no fortune-telling, no divining in Israel. You know that. They will cast you out if they hear." Noadya's mother was a foreigner – no one knew exactly what country, but she had the signs of a gypsy. She left when Noadya was old enough to know she was being abandoned.

Noadya was silent for a few moments, then she looked up again with a careless look. Noadya was very pretty – her face thin and smooth, her stone-black hair straight and long. She hated covering it up. "Well, how can I help it if I have a little gift? I didn't ask for it. And if they don't like it, I'll leave. I'm leaving anyway. Israel...it has its beauty, but all the rulers and rules!"

Bina said nothing. She wouldn't discourage her friend from leaving – part of her was afraid of what might happen should Noadya have an encounter with a priest – but knew she would be lonely without her. "I must go home. Hesia might need me to help with Elisheva."

"All right, then. I'll be a good daughter of Israel and pray for the girl." Noadya's smile was bright and mocking – of herself, Bina, and the whole world.

Jairus was torn in spirits that night, between what he had heard Jesus say that day and the turn his daughter had taken for the worse. For Elisheva was worse – she lay wrapped in blankets upstairs. Bina sat with her briefly while Hesia ate her supper, gently wiping her face with cool towels. She had a fever now, her eyes glossy, barely seeming to recognize Bina. Bina studied her face sadly – Elisheva was small for her age, and now terribly pale, her hair limp around her face.

Hesia returned and sent Bina back downstairs to eat her own meal and clean up. Jairus had gone to his room with Eliphaz, declaring they would pray together. Bina went to bed uneasily, unable to forget Noadya's words.

The crisis came before dawn. Elisheva was crying out, delirious in her fever, thrashing so her mother could barely restrain her. Bina woke from the noise, her heart pounding, then got to her feet, grabbing a robe, and ran to see if there was anything she could do.

Hesia was near weeping, clutching her daughter's hands as they twisted and clenched uncontrollably. Jairus held her face, pressing cool towels and trying to get her to drink mixtures. Eliphaz stood by helplessly. Bina stood in the doorway, for a moment was paralyzed by the scene. She looked again into Elisheva's frightfully pale, sunken face, her hair damp from sweat, and found a boldness inside her she had never known before.

She stepped up to Jairus. "Master – please, you must go find the teacher Jesus. He cured Simon's, the fisherman, mother of her fever – he can cure Elisheva. Please, my lord, I beg you."

Jairus looked up at her as though hardly seeing her, but he nodded, though Bina wondered if he really heard what she said. But he said, quietly to himself, "Yes. I will go to Jesus."

Almost as though she had heard, Elisheva suddenly calmed, laying back on her mat and pillow and her arms relaxing, though her breathing was still labored and her lips moved soundlessly. Jairus touched her cheek, and Bina backed out of the room.

Jairus left almost at first light. After the height of the fever in the middle of the night, Elisheva slept relatively peacefully, though her mother never left her side. Bina tried to begin her work, but found it beyond her, and went up to the upper room to wait and be on hand to offer anything needed. Hesia did not send her away.

The sun rose in the sky, the room growing warmer, and Bina wondered where Jairus was. Why wouldn't Jesus come? Couldn't he help Elisheva? All the stories they had heard...they had to be true. _Please, don't let this be the time he can't help._

Elisheva's eyes were open again, though she gave no sign of recognition, and did not respond when her mother put honeyed bread to her lips. Her breathing grew more erratic, and she began to toss and turn again fretfully.

Hesia touched her forehead for the hundredth time. "So hot," she whispered to herself. "So hot."

Bina soon came to clasp Elisheva's other hand. They sang and prayed together, servant and mistress forgotten, only two women who loved a little girl. But another crisis was rising. Elisheva was crying out, "Daddy, Mama – Eppa, Eppa – "– her baby name for her brother. Every few seconds Bina wet towels again with cool water, placing them around her neck and shoulders, on her forehead, holding them still while Elisheva shuddered.

At one point, Bina looked up to see tears on Hesia's cheeks, and realized with surprise she was crying as well. This fever wasn't like the others Elisheva had endured – oh, never. This crisis was too wracking for her little body, too much. Elisheva was going to die, and Bina cried for her own powerlessness.

At high noon, it ended. Elisheva shuddered once more, her grip on Bina's hand so tight the nails cut the skin, gasped – and became still. It was terrible, her face still frozen with eyes wide and unseeing, mouth parted, only slightly more relaxed than it had been a few seconds ago.

Hesia's moan was the first sound. She lowered her head to the floor, her grip on her daughter's hand never releasing. Bina felt stiff, feeling she should do something, help Hesia somehow – so with a shaking hand she reached out and closed Elisheva's eyes, rubbing the face into more natural lines, shutting her mouth. Her mouth and throat were dry; part of her wanted to scream from the horror. But she still felt so stiff.

The door opened behind her; she jerked around reflexively to see other men of the temple looking in – they looked only for a moment, shook their head sadly, and disappeared again. A man behind them came in, approaching Hesia, who was still bowed to the ground. Bina didn't want to wait to hear what he would say; she felt her duties were finished, and she had had enough. Struggling to her feet, she pushed her way out, not seeing anyone.

Distantly, the mourners began to wail. When had they come? Who had called them? When did they know?

The kitchen was empty. Bina took soap and water and washed her face and hands, scrubbing so the skin was almost rubbed off. Then she sat down on the small porch outside of the servants' entrance, seeing the street outside only out of the corner of her eye.

She tuned out the mourners' sobbing. It was the only way; she hated them so much at the time that she feared if she had to really listen she might try to strike them, drive them away. So she only became aware of the world again when a second sound competed with them for supremacy – it was the sound of a crowd approaching.

Bina arose, walking forward toward the street and front of the house. There, there was Jairus in the crowd, followed by a couple of his men – the ones who had first appeared in the doorway of the upper room where Elisheva lay. Jairus looked – well, like a man who had been told terrible news and did not dare to believe it.

The crowd paused before the house, and besides Jairus and the temple men under him that Bina knew, four other men separated themselves from the crowd to go up to the house where the mourners stood, out of Bina's range of view. But she heard what was said anyway.

A man's firm voice: "Stop wailing. Why all this commotion? She is not dead, but sleeping."

Two volient emotions fought for supremacy with Bina: gratitude to the man for telling the mourners to silence themselves, and fury for mocking Elisheva's death. The fury was redirected and increased as she heard the mourners laughing – laughing! – in response. What hypocrisy! She hated them all. They were paid to mourn, but were blatantly insincere enough to laugh.

She slipped back inside to see Jairus and the men coming inside, the mourners dispersing reluctantly behind them. She looked over them quickly as a thought struck her – one of them must be Jesus. She hadn't thought of him in hours, but yes, that was what Jairus set out for, why he was away at the hour of his only daughter's death. _Too late_, she thought bitterly. But her curiosity was not restrained even then; she had heard too much not to wonder which one was Jesus. The four strangers seemed commonplace enough; one had hair and beard much wilder than the others, and a red face to fit it, with the look of a fisherman – by the stories, that must be Simon. The other three were ordinary enough, tan and with the rugged look of men who traveled. She finally settled on one with light brown hair and a dark and short beard with sideburns. He looked somewhat – softer – than the others.

Hesia appeared in the doorway. She was pale and had an entirely blank, detached expression. Jairus moved to her, though did not touch her.

"Where is the child?" Bina looked back to the men quickly; it was not the soft man who spoke, but one with shorter, less curly hair bound round by a white cloth. Was that Jesus? She noticed a scar running down his left forearm – Noadya said he was a carpenter's son...

Jairus and Hesia did not answer; it was one of Jairus's men. "She is in the upper room."

The group went outside, to climb the stairs; drawn as though connected by a string, Bina followed.

With Jairus, Hesia, Jesus, and his three companions, the room where Elisheva lay was crowded, but Bina hovered by the doorway, as she had done last night when Elisheva was alive and delirious. The man who had spoken, the one with the scar, went forward and took the same hand Bina had held a short time ago, and with confidence, just as Jairus said any morning, "My child, get up!"

The eyes which Bina had closed blinked open. Bina felt herself turning to stone. And she was not the only one receiving a shock – Hesia let out a cry and stumbled backwards, knocking a pot off and shattering it. Elisheva looked at her, surprised.

Jesus – for that could only be him now – helped her up, and gently pushed her to her parents. "Give her something to eat, but do not tell everyone what has happened here." Moving gracefully around the shattered pottery, he walked out and down the stairs, followed closely by his disciples.

Bina continued to stare, unblinking as Elisheva smiled rather shakily at her parents, who held her arms and stared into her face.

Jairus found his voice first. "My – no! Your name shall not be Elisheva any longer, but Serah Imnah, for you have been given a new life."

Finally, Bina was able to turn and look away. The mourners, having departed a short distance away, looked askance and muttered as Jesus and his men walked serenely away. Bina's breath caught, and then she hurried down the steps, nearly tripping, and ran out into the street.

"Jesus! Lord!"

They turned; Bina reached them, and fell to her knees before Jesus. "My lord – I – I thank you." Her head was still spinning – nothing that had happened in the last hour could be believed. Had Elisheva died? Had Jesus come to their house and given her breath again? Was she now running after and calling so audaciously after this great teacher and healer, Jesus?

"My daughter – " She heard his gentle voice again. "Please, rise to your feet."

Obedience embedded in her nerves, she got to her feet, though her head remained half-bowed. But Jesus met her eyes, and she wondered how she could have ever not seen him right away. It would be years until she found the right words to describe how she saw Jesus's face in that moment, how she had never seen anything like it before and never saw it again. It was calm, compassionate, and wise; capable of being angered, capable of hatred against something, though not someone.

Jesus raised his hands and touched her cheeks with his fingers. She started involuntarily; no man had ever touched her so closely before. But Jesus held them for only a moment, then lowered them again and smiled. She half-smiled in return, the thought occurring she must seem like a half-idiot.

"Peace," he said simply, and turned and left. Bina stared after him, even when they turned a corner, for several moments. She might have stood longer, had not a call pulled her back.

"Bina!"

It was Noadya, running breathlessly up. "Is it true? I –"She stopped and jerked back. "Innana!"

Bina looked at her, confused. "What was it that you said?"

Noadya did not answer, but stared at her face, openmouthed.

"Noadya, what is it?" Bina touched her own face, then let out a cry and clapped both hands to her cheeks.

They were smooth; as smooth as Noadya's.

**ETA**: I got my results back for the project. The teacher gave me a hundred, said I didn't have to do any more projects for the rest of the year, and asked to keep it. Score.


End file.
